


Morning Comes

by ColdCoffins



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6209677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdCoffins/pseuds/ColdCoffins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More of the Were-Gas AU. Yharnamites try to eliminate the beast priest and throw his family into the mix as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Comes

The iron cast chains hung thick around Father Gascoigne’s wrists. At this moment, they could easily slide off his arms if he wished it. Only, it would not be so in a few moments. The priest gave a short gasp as a stab of pain arched through his frame. Already on his knees, he hunched over slightly. The large hunter breathed raggedly for a moment before setting himself upright.

 It would be time soon. The time when he would turn into that hideous creature due to the moons cursed light. He shot a breath of air through his teeth in irritation. The agony would come and go until the moment of his turning. He wished it would just be done with, the rest was unnecessary pain. 

The father doubled over once more with a groan as another spasm of pain spread through his muscles. He caught himself on his open palms as a bit of spittle flecked from his mouth at his falling. They were coming more frequently now, more intense. 

“How are you feeling?”   
  
Gascoigne looked up as Eileen’s boot came into his view. He wiped the bit of spit from the side of his mouth as he sat up again. 

“What does it look like Eileen?” The father responded dryly. 

“Looks like you’re throwin’ about like in a fit. You’re fine other then that, then?”   
  
“As well as one can be in this situation…” Gascoigne gave a forced huff of a laugh before he crumpled once more onto the floor. “Gods be damned…just get on with it.” He growled in his pain. 

Eileen was about to speak when a slam from the upstairs drew her attention away. She turned, her feathered cloak following her movements as she approached the bottom of the basements stair well. 

“What? What is it…?” Gascoigne asked from his chained spot. 

The door was then flung open as three figures where pushed through. It promptly slammed shut behind their silhouettes. The sound of something heavy could be hear being dragged and pressed up against the door’s other side. Something to barricade them in.   

“No, you don’t know what you are doing!” The tallest of the figures cried out in a female voice as she banged on the door. “Let us out!”  

“Miss Viola?” Eileen asked when she heard the familiar voice.   
  
Gascoigne’s heart frozen in his chest at the name. 

“Miss Eileen!” Two younger voices cried out, as two young girls rushed down the stairs to embrace the black feather coated hunter. 

“Miss Viola…what is all this? Whats happened?” Elieen asked as she stroked the golden hair of the tallest of the girls who was around her hips. 

“They-the beast hunters…they shut us down here. I don’t know why…I dont know how they found out about this place.” Viola answered. 

“Viola…” Gascoigne breathed from his spot. 

“Gascoigne!” Viola rushed to the side of her hunter. She looked over his chained figure with concern lining her brow. “You are alright?”  
  
“Daddy is here too?” The youngest child asked Eileen. 

“Aye…aye I’m fine.” Gascoigne told his wife. “But you must leave. The moon will rise soon…you mustn’t see me like…”   
  
“We can’t, love.” Viola said. “We’re trapped here. I don’t know why-”  
  
“Be silent!” Eileen ordered suddenly. The woman needed to hear. There was shuffling up above. It was the movement of many footsteps that caused the wooden ceiling to complain and shower those below it with dust.   
  
A clatter. Something else heavy was turned over. Something was over-turned onto the floor above. 

Eileen slowly and quietly moved towards the bottom the the stair well. A faint glow was flickering under the door frame. It was small at first, but started to grow. Small puffs, clouds, of a dark grey began to seep its way under the crack of the basement door. It descended down the stairs with light feet and began to pool its thickness around Eileen’s heels. 

“We have to get out.” Eileen said before she hurried away. She scanned the ceiling, looking for any sort of window, vent or opening. No it was all bricked in. 

Viola gasped when she saw the smoke continue to flow down the stairs. She held her girls close to her. The light, once small, had begun to increase its warm glow down the stairwell from the basement door with-holding it. 

“What-what is—” Gascoigne began but choked back on his own words as a fresh wave of pain shot through him. He went rigid before folding over, his bones beginning to moan under his flesh. 

Yes, thats it, Gascoigne. Eileen rushed over to the man, she began to undo his heavy chains. 

“They’re trying to burn us in, Gascoigne.” Eileen told him.

“Is Daddy going to help us?” The youngest girl asked the crow. 

“Aye, he is. Your dad is going to break us out of here.” Eileen told the child as much as she was telling Gascoigne. 

“What…? No, Iy can’t–!” Gascoigne was interrupted by a gasp of pain as a pop resounded in his shoulder. Eileen watched the fabric stretch as the Father’s shoulder dislocated and elongated before relocating itself with a squelch. Gascoigne was growling now in his stress as he hunched over from the agonizing change. 

“Iy can’t Eileen…!” Gascoigne spoke through gritted teeth that were becoming longer and sharper by the moment. “Iy…” He looked up, at his family. They were scared. Scared of their situation. He had to protect them, help them…do something. 

But not like this. Not as some, half-minded creature. Not with the smell of their blood growing ever more present in his nose. Not with the fog of barley recalling his actions. No. Not like that. 

“Don’t fight it, now.” Eileen kneeled in front of the larger hunter. “We need a beasts strength.”   
  
“No!” He snarled his voice becoming distorted and deep. “Not in front of them!” 

“What choice do ya have ya fool!?” Eileen yelled. 

Viola stepped away from her daughters, kneeling beside Eileen and her husband. 

“Its ok, dear.” Viola said softly. “You’re going to help us. It’s alright.”   
  
“Viola…I wont…!” Gascoigne got out before his jaw began to pop and the sides of his mouth start to split. His body wasn’t listening to him anymore. The change traveled down his elongated shoulder. The muscles on his arm swelled, pressing up against with-holding fabric. His fingers stretched forward and popped, ending with emerging black claws.  Holding back what change he could was all Gascoigne could muster. 

Viola closed her eyes breifly before she set her brow and stood. 

“Eileen, I need something sharp.”   
  
“Aye…” Eileen did not know what the wife was up to when she handed her one of her throwing knives. “I’m going to try the door, keep workin with him.”   
  
Elieen left the husband and wife, moving quickly up the stairwell to try to force open the door. If Gascoigne wouldn’t help, she’d have to do things herself. 

Viola held the knife’s end in her hand. She raised her opposite arm, putting the finely serrated blade up against her hand. “I’m sorry love…” She pulled it sharply across her palm. A splash of red came forth to leak onto the stone ground below. “But we need you as a beast, right now.” 

The smell of his wife’s blood crept into his senses and set them ablaze.  He couldn’t help the toothy grin that spread on his face. Oh how her blood smelled so sweet. Her blood, his wifes blood. Yes he would protect that blood, he would protect what was his. 

The door stood little chance and was reduced to splinters once a beastly Gascoigne rammed through it shoulder first. Upstairs the flames burned bright, enveloping most of the old building they used to contain Gascoigne. Eileen and Viola exited through the broken doorway soon after with the girls in tow. Eileen took advantage to cut down afew of the lingering Yharnamite hunters who wished to watch the place burn. 

“No you will burn!” A Yharnamite raised his long rifle and fired. 

Gascoigne shielded the group with a shoulder, the bullet piercing through. With a roar he sliced the man from belly to throat to dispose of him. 

“Gascoigne, take the girls…” Viola told the beast that was her husband when he finished his violence. Viola knew the smell of smoke and burning was too potent for him to revel in the blood of his kill. She guided the two girls into her husbands larger arms where he took them up. He was surprisingly careful with the two bundles as he lifted them from the ground. The youngest clung to her father, burying her face in his warped coat to shield herself from the heat of the flames. 

“Follow me, now!” Eileen called out. “To the tomb, its not far!”

 She guided the group through the flames out into the open. Viola kept close to the feathered hunter, she occasionally had to aid her beastly husband in his avoidance of the flame. As any beast would, he shrank away from its presence.

Once out in the open, they were greeted by the cool night air. It swept through the group and into flames of the burning building. Small cinders rode upon the breeze and filled the area. Eileen laid a hand on the large beast that was Gascoigne and gave him afew pats on his stretched leather garb. 

“Thats a good oaf.” 

The group settled at the tomb of Odeon. They gathered around the large peaked statue at its center. The stone carved figure in its middle looked out over the poor nights refuges. A hunter of hunters, a wife and her children and her beastly husband. Their clothes were laid with a fine layer of ash and slightly burnt on some of the edges. 

“Gascoigne, stop now.” Eileen had been trying to patch the beastly hunter’s shoulder where the bullet had hit him. It bled openly and Gascoigne had begun to lick his wound, growling slightly when Eileen would try to put her hands near.  “Iy got to clean this an’ you lickin your wound like a hound ain’t helping.”   
  
“Daddy, please let miss Eileen help.” The older daughter pleaded to her father. “She wants to help you.”   
  
Gascoigne’s tension seemed to melt at his daughters voice. He moved his head away from the spot to rest it between his clawed hands. He would allow the feather hunter Eileen to help. His daughter had asked so. He would allow it. 

“Thank ya dear.” Eileen said to the girl as she readied her needle with some thread to stitch the gaping hole. 

“What will happen now mummy?” The youngest daugher asked Viola as she sat in her mothers lap. Viola stroked her golden hair, getting some of the fallen ash out of it. 

“Well we’re going home. You and your sister are going to bed. Then miss Eileen and I are going to find a new place for your father to change in until morning.” 

The young girl nodded. She laid her head against her mother’s chest. There, she felt the slow drafts and waves of sleep come to her. The morning always comes. She would come down stairs and greet her tired human father. He would pick her up with a hug despite being sore from this night. 

The morning always comes.


End file.
